Palm Sunday: The Day I Came Out as Queer - New Ways Ministry

In this blog post, we will be featuring a contribution from a guest writer named Flora x. Tang. Flora is currently pursuing her doctorate degree in the field of theology and peace studies at the University of Notre Dame. Originally from Beijing, China, Flora now resides in South Bend, Indiana.

You can locate the liturgical readings for Palm Sunday in this section.

I revealed that I am queer while I was leading a Palm Sunday procession from the outside of my church to the altar, six years ago.

In simpler terms, I thought it would be appropriate to celebrate my "coming out anniversary" on Palm Sunday with a maximalist liturgy and a procession. While singing the Hosana Filio David hymn and holding a palm branch, I affirmed my queerness and God's love for me.

Before publicly acknowledging my sexuality, I spent years reflecting and contemplating internally. It was a gradual and thoughtful journey that involved self-exploration and decision-making. Contrary to how the film Love, Simon might depict, the epiphany of my sexuality wasn't an instant or obvious realization.

Realizing that I was gay was a complicated experience, but the concept of "coming out" was even more complex. Whether in Catholic environments or elsewhere, disclosing my queer identity wasn't a matter of making a definitive announcement to the world. It involved dropping hints and being subtle to those I felt would support me while also keeping my queer aspects hidden from those who may not. Being gay involves encountering constant ambiguity and nuances every day.

Maybe this is why I felt like commemorating my coming out on one of the most beautiful and religiously lavish days of the year was appropriate. On Palm Sunday, we read about Jesus' grand arrival in Jerusalem and his death on the cross. On this day, we declare that God loves us so much that he was willing to die for us. When I came out to myself and to God on Palm Sunday, I was confident that God loves me just the way I am because he went through all that trouble for me.

In today's gospel reading, taken from the Gospel of Mark for this liturgical year, there is a story where Jesus conceals his true identity as the Messiah from his community all along. However, at a certain point, he finally discloses the truth and declares himself as the Messiah. However, this revelation leads to a scandalous situation where the Roman authorities execute him as a result of the announcement. Therefore, Jesus' declaration results in violence and tragedy.

As an academic who advocates for peace and nonviolence, I have had mixed feelings about celebrating Palm Sunday. I find myself questioning whether queer Catholics are meant to lead a life of persecution, rejection, and even death for being true to who they are, just as Jesus chose to make the ultimate sacrifice for his beliefs. Are we, as the Catholic doctrine on gender and sexuality suggests, to accept our struggles as our own personal crosses to bear? Or should we be following the prevalent American gay mainstream narrative, which urges us to come out and live authentically, regardless of the potential risks and dangers?

I wish I could confidently reply with a definite "no" to anyone who questions their worth and assure them of their unconditional love. Unfortunately, the tales of Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem and the events leading up to his crucifixion during Holy Week have been analyzed and debated for centuries, making it challenging to give a straightforward and clear-cut response.

As a devout Catholic, I have always been puzzled by the idea of embracing violence and death as sacred in our traditions. Although I believe in the love of God and the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, it is challenging to fully comprehend how this represents holiness when we are living in a world where violence and death are rampant. Additionally, I question whether we should always strive to follow in Jesus' footsteps of suffering and dying, especially when marginalized communities are already experiencing unjust harm. It seems contradictory that our faith tradition praises violence and the act of giving up oneself as a virtue when we should be promoting love, kindness, and acceptance for all, including queer Catholics.

I'm uncertain, and more significantly, I opt not to accept self-deprivation and extended pain as the sole methods of leading a life that mirrors the love of Christ. Rather, I aspire to pray for the well-being, vitality, camaraderie, elation, and blooming of all my LGBTQ+ brethren. My hope is for a world in which LGBTQ+ youngsters do not die, and fatalities are grieved instead of being celebrated.

I revealed my queer identity on Palm Sunday because the Passion story showcased how God's love for me is unwavering, even in the face of death. At the time, I was struggling with my queer identity and what it meant for my future. The idea of Jesus sacrificing himself for me gave me comfort during this turbulent time. However, I am now questioning whether the traditional interpretation of a God who became human and died for our sins is enough to provide hope and comfort for queer individuals, especially in a society and religious environment that is often hostile towards them.

As I celebrate Palm Sunday which also doubles as my coming out anniversary, I am reminded of the happiness I've experienced in the past six years since then. This motivates me to keep pushing and holding onto hope.

Rewritten: On March 24, 2024, Flora X. Tang published a blog post.